He’s Still Here

A soft smile makes its way across her face as she tenderly holds an ornament. A angelic figure, appearing to be an alicorn, holding a candle in each of their crossed forehooves, and draped in a deep red robe with golden ribbing on the edges as well as the bow. Their wings are golden in color and the mane flows softly and gently over the shoulders, encasing their face, and their tail circles the body in a loose circle. The horn separates the mane starkly, holding up a ring. Memories play through her mind’s eye as she plugs in the angel, making sure she still lights up before unplugging and gently setting her down in the box. Turning back towards the lush tree behind her, running a hoof along a branch and taking in a deep breath of the familiar scent of pine needles. Opening a small box, she’d find the still familiar ornaments that she had taken with her when she left home. Having already put the lights on, she’d start to put on ornaments. Her ears pricking as a song comes on the radio, her hoof slips, the ornament, (a small one with a bear appearance, golden-tan in color with a heart in the center with the words “Baby’s First” across it in fancy lettering) falling and shattering into multiple pieces. The song? “White Christmas” by Mustang Bubble (Michael Bubble). She pulled her hoof back from the sharp pieces of broken ornament, before she seemed to break. A harsh sob broke its way through as she tried to gather up the pieces, cutting her own hoof in the process. Memories flooded her mind. Singing with her grandfather to this song when she was much younger. His first stroke leaving him in the hospital for weeks. Her thinking he’d never come home. And when he did, she sang with him. His condition worsening over the year, until the next Christmas, he could barely feed himself. But he still sang with her. His deep, resounding bass mixing with her light, tinkling soprano. That same Christmas he had another stroke. She remembered screaming for help as her father ran in, her grandmother pulling her away from her grandfather as he was taken away for the last time. The next time she saw him he was hooked up to multiple medical machines, and he held her close as she sang for him quietly through her tears. This was the last time they sang together, and the last time she saw him alive. She never could bear to hear that song afterwards, and she hardly sang anymore. Much to her mother’s displeasure. She found herself hugging a small plush. It still smelled like him after all these years. She sniffled quietly, wiping away her tears. “I miss you Pawpaw...” After a long spell of just sitting there, breathing in the scent of her grandfather. She stood up and swept up the pieces of ornament to try to fix later. She didn’t realize her hoof was bleeding until she saw the stain on a ballerina’s tutu. She shortly had it bandaged and the ballerina off the tree. After she had finished putting up ornaments, she placed the tinsel on and got out the rest of her decorations. She’d place them later, right now, she still needed to calm down. She fixed herself some hot cocoa with marshmallows and whipped cream, and held the plush close as she sipped at the cocoa slowly. Looking down at it, she smiled again. Even after all this time. Grandpa was still watching over her. She felt a cold hoof on her shoulder, but nothing there when looked. She hummed softly, leaning her head against it as she closed her eyes.